


Tuesday, 9:30AM

by WritingQuill



Series: (30) Days of Johnlock [29]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, Holding Hands, Kissing, M/M, Matchmaking, Tea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-29
Updated: 2013-04-29
Packaged: 2017-12-09 23:10:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/779042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingQuill/pseuds/WritingQuill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Day twenty-nine: doing something sweet </p><p> </p><p>  <i>Yellow Brick Road was a tiny little cafe in Marylebone, owned by Mrs Hudson...</i></p><p> </p><p>Mrs Hudson puts her matchmaking talents to work when she realises that her best employee John and her faithful costumer Sherlock, who comes in every Tuesday at 9:30AM, have feelings for one another but refuse to do anything about it.</p><p>Edit: this fic has now been translated in Russian by the lovely alisalukyanets on tumblr. You can read it <a href="https://ficbook.net/readfic/4694321">here</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tuesday, 9:30AM

_Yellow Brick Road_ was a tiny little cafe in Marylebone, owned by Mrs Hudson, who had been a big fan of _The Wizard of Oz_ (both novel and film) from a young age. The cafe was established in 1973, and remained on the same spot ever since. It was a local legend, really. People all over London just _knew_ Mrs Hudson had the best coffee and tea, the most delicious scones, and the sweetest jams. The atmosphere changed only a bit over the years, becoming more and more comfortable as Mrs Hudson aged, and the patrons changed styles. The main area was covered in settees, love-seats, small plushy chairs, armchairs and sofas. When it was dry and sunny out, there would be a few tables outside, all with mismatched chairs. The walls had the quirkiest wallpapers, a different one on each wall, and the wall decorations were nothing if not a little unorthodox, prints varying from Miss Potter’s drawings to contemporary London Expressionist artists, whom she loved to promote on her walls. The small counter at the middle of the shop was manned by Mrs Hudson herself, always with a big smile on her face and an uncanny ability to guess anyone’s favourite pastries; the sweet Molly Hooper, young student of Pathology who was a bit too shy for her own good, but made a brilliant cappuccino and had the best baking hand since Mrs Hudson’s mother; and, lastly, John Watson, the darling Medical student who was taken under Mrs Hudson’s wing as soon as he entered the shop at 17, looking for a job after moving to London for university. 

Mrs Hudson thought about maybe setting John and Molly up when Molly started working for her, but changed her mind when she talked about it with John. 

‘What do you think of Molly?’ she had asked eagerly. It had been the end of the day, and John was organising the teacups. 

’She’s nice, I suppose,’ he’d replied with a shrug. Not helpful. 

‘Very pretty, isn’t she?’ 

John had chuckled and nodded, realising what Mrs Hudson had been trying to do. ‘Yes, she really is. Not really my type, though.’

‘But why ever not? She’s nice, smart, you clearly like each other very much…’ 

‘I dunno, Mrs Hudson… I feel very brotherly towards Molly, she’s so quiet, I feel protective over her. But, again, in a very brotherly way,’ he had said, clearly done with the subject. And Mrs Hudson had given up. 

That had been about a year ago.

Now she was bringing a fresh tray of chocolate croissants to the front. John was taking care of an order and Molly was taking the afternoon shift, so she would only arrive when John had to leave at 2PM for his class. The bell on the door chimed as a new patron walked in. It was _him_. He always came in every Tuesday at 9:30AM precisely. He was lanky, with wild dark curls and clever icy-blue-sometimes-green-and-maybe-grey eyes. 

The first time he entered the shop, on a Wednesday actually, he changed to Tuesdays the week after, Molly had had to suppress a giggle. Apparently, she knew him from a Chemistry module she was taking, and he was this super genius, quiet, arrogant, public-school boy. Sherlock Holmes, she said he was called, and that was an odd name, wasn’t it? Mrs Hudson thought so. John had had no thoughts on the matter, simply taking Sherlock’s order — an Earl Grey with milk and sugar, and a scone. 

Today, Sherlock Holmes was sporting even wilder hair, and large dark bags under his eyes. He approached the till, and Molly hovered a bit. Poor girl fancied him so much, but he never paid her any mind. Mrs Hudson, as she watched John deal with Sherlock, made a mental note to have a talk with Molly — she needed to be more assertive.

‘How long since you’ve slept?’ asked John, punching the prices on the till without needing to hear the order. John was really good at his job, he knew the orders of all their regulars.

Sherlock scoffed and shrugged. ‘Irrelevant. I’m running a delicate experiment, don’t have time for sleep,’ he explained, handing John the money. Their hands brushed and Mrs Hudson didn’t miss the slight shiver on John’s back. Hm, interesting. John smiled. 

‘No time for sleep, but time for tea and scones?’ 

Sherlock snorted, picking up his change. ‘Of course, John, do keep up,’ he said, placing half of the change on the tip jar next to the marshmallow box. John smiled and shook his head, moving away from the counter to make the tea. 

Well, this was an interesting development. Apparently, Mrs Hudson hadn’t been paying attention at all! When John said Molly wasn’t his type, he meant she wasn’t his _type_. Made much more sense now, she was such a beautiful young woman, only a man who didn’t like women would not want to be with her. Clearly his type was 6’ skinny, dark-haired geniuses with no mouth filter and lovely blue eyes. Fascinating, indeed. 

Oh, this was going to be fun, she thought as she stifled a giggle. 

John finished making Sherlock’s tea, put in on a tray with the scone and some honey — John even knew how he liked his _scones_ , how could Mrs Hudson could have been so blind! — and took it to Sherlock’s usual table, next to the bookshelves, where he sat every week with either a notepad, a drawing pad, a book (never fiction), or a laptop. He gave John a slight smile when his food arrived, and John smiled back, quickly making his way back to the counter. He quirked an eyebrow at how Mrs Hudson was staring at him. 

‘What?’ he asked. 

‘You like him, don’t you?’ she asked in a whisper. John’s eyes widened and he shook his head. 

’N-no, that’s—‘ 

‘Oh, don’t you try to fool me John Watson, I’ve known you six years.’ 

John bowed his head and nodded. ‘Fine, fine… But it’s just a crush, it’ll pass. It’s hard not to fancy the bloke, have you seen him? I don’t even like men…’ he explained, as he busied himself with the tray of muffins.

Mrs Hudson clapped her hands excitedly and squeezed John’s arm playfully. ‘That’s where you’re wrong, dearie. He obviously likes you back. Every week, he comes in here, drinks the tea and eats the scone, and all you do is chat for a few seconds, and yet he beams.’ 

John scoffed. ‘That’s preposterous.’ 

‘Is it?’ Mrs Hudson asked teasingly. It was all coming back to her now. And so painfully obvious, she was a bit ashamed not to have noticed earlier. ‘Remember last month when you took a week off to study for that important exam?’ John nodded. ‘Well, he came, of course, I got him his order, but he didn’t smile once, didn’t even leave a tip. And yet when you’re here, he always chuckles or smirks, and always leaves a bit of his change on the tip jar.’ 

‘That’s hardly empirical evidence, maybe he just likes my service,’ John said, eyes weary. The poor thing was clearly hopeful but didn’t want to take the chance. Well, Mrs Hudson was having none of that. 

‘John Hamish Watson, you listen to me,’ she told him with her best stern voice. And she knew for a fact that it was a really good stern voice. ‘You deserve to be happy, and I don’t like seeing you alone, all studies and work. Now you will go over there and talk to that young man who is clearly just as head of heels for you as you are for him.’ 

John gulped loudly, and looked around the shop. The only patrons were a young woman with large glasses and a Macbook, the father with his little boy John was serving earlier, and Sherlock. Weekday mornings were usually quiet, so there would be no reason for him not to take a wee break now and talk to Sherlock Holmes. 

‘So? What are you waiting for? Go!’ she shoved at him slightly and John nodded. 

‘Fine! I’ll… okay.’ He stepped out of the counter area and walked slowly over to Sherlock’s table. Sherlock looked up confusedly at him and Joh said something. Mrs Hudson watched closely as she re-organised the mess John made of the muffin tray. She couldn’t understand what they were saying, but the looks were enough. 

Sherlock smiled and nodded, and John sat across from him, also smiling. John leaned closer and was playing nervously with a packet of Splenda, but Sherlock stopped him by closing the lid of his laptop and leaned closer as well, putting a hand over Johns. 

This was going rather well, wasn’t it? 

*

The next Tuesday, Sherlock walked into _Yellow Brick Road_ with a slight grin. Mrs Hudson had just finished setting up the _pain au chocolat_ display when he entered, and she saw him blush ever-so-slightly when he looked over to John, who smiled back. Marvellous, Mrs Hudson thought with an inward squeal. She went to clean up one of the tables by the bookshelves to give the boys a little privacy. 

‘Hi,’ John said, already punching in the order. Sherlock didn’t reply, but it appeared that the boys were adept at communicating through glances. 

‘I’ll see you later, then?’ asked Sherlock when John handed him the tea and the scone. John nodded. 

‘Yes, definitely.’ 

‘Good,’ Sherlock smiled, and walked away to his usual table, right where Mrs Hudson had been spying. He stopped next to her and grinned. ‘Thank you,’ he told her, and moved away. 

Mrs Hudson smirked and went back to work. 

 

Later that day, an hour after lunch, it was the end of John’s shift. Molly had arrived early today, and was already working the till as John put away his apron and picked up his backpack. 

‘Well, that’s me, then. I’ll see you two tomorrow,’ John said, walking towards the door. Mrs Hudson gave him a peck on the cheek and a wink. 

‘Bye, John,’ said Molly with that lovely smile of hers. Mrs Hudson would have to work on her next. 

After John left, Mrs Hudson looked outside and saw that Sherlock had been waiting for John. They met halfway and Sherlock leaned down for a kiss, which John returned with gusto. After a few moments, they parted and walked away, holding hands, with big smiles on their slightly-reddened lips.

**Author's Note:**

> God, I love coffeeshop AUs... 
> 
> Anyway, one day left, guys! Theme is "doing something hot", so I'm torn between something porn-y or sending the boys to a Thai restaurant, haha. 
> 
> Thank you for reading (and for all the lovely comments on yesterday's ficlet, I do love comments!), you're all awesome!
> 
> Cheers x


End file.
